Complicated
by misanoe
Summary: [Bend it like Beckham] Jess and Joe interact in Australia.


Author's note: This is a random scene alteration I wrote about in the movie. Other then that it's the same with the same result. **Complicated** *** "I don't need you to feel sorry for me." Her throat became dry as she looked up at him and she was made painfully aware of his close proximity. She could almost hear the beats of his heart pounding furiously to match her own. If he didn't want her to feel sorry for him, what did he want? She was tempted to ask but thankfully, the alcohol she consumed was nowhere near enough to lend her the courage to explore that question. He was her coach. He was off limits. He was a beautiful, beautiful boy. She stared at his lips. All she had to do was lift her head, just lean in a bit and brush her lips against his. She was so close and the way he was staring at her hinted he would not push her away. There was something between them. It was there on the field when he told her about his father. It was in the stands when he laughed at her joke. Even now she felt the pull. He stared down at her, patiently waiting for her decision. This was wrong and a hell of a lot more trouble then either of them needed. He was putting the ball in her court. He made no move towards her or away. The buzz from the glasses of wine she drank evaporated. She wanted desperately to kiss him but if there was one thing she was a master of, it was self-restraint. She'd spent a lifetime as the obedient Indian girl and she wouldn't complicate her life for just one kiss. Almost imperceptibly she shifted back, the quickly masked disappointment in Joe's face telling her more about his feelings for her then she had been able to guess in the past month. "Jess, Joe?" I'm so glad I didn't kiss him, I'm so glad I didn't kiss him, Jess repeated in her head over and over again when she heard Jules' voice right behind her. That would have been a sight for her to walk in on. Jules walked to the two, looking between them suspiciously, as they avoided direct eye contact. "What's going on here?" Jess feigned a weak smile, "Nothing. We're just talking about my mum, that's all." "That's it?" answered Jules, still not entirely convinced. "Well we have an early flight tomorrow," Joe spoke up before she could interrogate them any further. "I'm going to head back to my room before the sun rises." Instantly Jules forgot about their compromising position and leapt on Joe, "Aw not now Joe. It's still early and you left me alone on the dance floor. Come dance a bit more," she pleaded, latching onto his arm. Joe sighed, "I'm not going to get rid of you, am I?" "Nope," answered Jules cheekily, grinning up at him. "Fine, one more dance." He wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulder. "But just one and no more of your pestering." Jules eyes were mischievous, "Of course not Joe," her smile promised different. Jess watched the two, feeling very much the outsider, "Actually, I'm feeling a bit tired myself," she interrupted, envious of the ease of their friendly exchange. Why did her relationship with Joe have to be so complicated? "Not you too," said Jules. "It's only one." Jess grimaced, "I'm feeling a bit sick. I must have drunk too much." "Are you alright?" Jules asked, immediately concerned. Quickly she extracted herself from Joe, placing a comforting hand on Jess's shoulder. "I just need to lie down, I'll be fine." "I'll take you back," Jules commanded. "No," Jess said forcefully, giving Jules a meek smile. "I'm sorry, I'll be fine. I just don't want you to miss any of the fun." She shrugged, "Besides, I don't like to be around people when I'm sick. It's a scary sight..." "You sure?" Jules asked, looking torn between the prospect of spending some time alone with Joe and sending her sick friend back to the hotel. Jess looked at her closest friend and smiled, "Yeah, you two go on and have fun." However much Jules denied it, Jess knew her friend harbored feelings for their coach. Jules could have him, Jess decided. It'd never work between Joe and her anyways. "Is that what you want?" Joe asked, carefully studying her face. Jess looked away, unable to meet his probing eyes as she lied to him, "That's what I want." "Well that settles that. I'll walk you out and get you a taxi," Jules insisted. "Thanks," said Jess, still avoiding Joe's gaze. *** "Coming," Jess shouted at the door, trying to scrape off the last remnants of the night's makeup that seemed to have melded to her skin. "How the bloody hell am I supposed to take this off?" she grumbled to herself, her hair tied back in a sloppy pony tail so she could scrub her face clean. Wiping her skin on the towel, she walked blindly to the door, cursing once more as she stubbed her toe on her suitcase. "Damnit," she yelped, limping to the door. Flinging the door open, she turned around to flip the light on and hobbled to her bed. "What happened to your key?" called Jess sitting on the bed, nursing her foot. She looked at the clock and frowned, "Did you forget something?" "Well it'd be a bit inappropriate for me to have a key to your room, now wouldn't it," answered a husky voice from her doorway. Jess groaned and screwed her eyes shut, feebly hoping if she never saw him, he would disappear. The bed dipped as she felt a weight next to her settle down. No such luck. "As for forgetting something," he continued, "I failed to mention earlier what I want." Her mind hit a blank and she had nothing to say. "Are you going to spend all night with your eyes closed?" She could hear the slight laughter in his voice. Jess opened her eyes to confront the man next to her. His smile was so gentle it broke her heart. Why did he have to be so perfect? "What do you want from me Joe?" she asked, stressing the word me. He sighed, leaning his arms back on her bed and staring up at the ceiling, "Honestly?" Jess nodded. "Friendship," he paused. "Something more." "How much more?" she asked, trying to absorb Joe's words. "How much you willing to give?" he joked. His eyes grew serious. "I've been trying to pretend you're just one of the girls but you're not. I don't feel the same way with you as I do Jules," he tried to explain. "Which is why you can't pass me off like a football towards her," he grinned wryly. "What I feel for you is different, and there's not much I can do to stop it. I wouldn't if I could," he added. So he did know how Jules felt about him, "You didn't really answer my question." She bit her lip trying to ignore the fluttering in the pit of his stomach as he sat up off the bed. "I guess I didn't," he paced around the small room. "I know what I want, but I can't have it now, can I." "Then why are you here?" Jess asked. "What's the point." "The point?" he looked at her. "There is no point." His eyes traveled across her face, resting on a wayward curl the framed her face. Lifting a hand, he gently fingered the tress. "I should go," he said reluctantly. About to agree, she changed her mind, "Look, you can't just say something like that and leave." "I can't?" he asked, bemused at the indignation in her voice. "No," she said. "At least not without finding out how I feel." "And how's that?" Though he was infuriatingly calm, she could sense the tension in his body as he waited for her reply. It mattered, she realized. She mattered and so did he. The feeling was odd, a rush she couldn't describe. Impulsively she stood up and leaned in to kiss him. "You bitch-" Crap. *** 


End file.
